that hawaiian shirt

that Hawaiian shirt you had hanging over your bed.
palm trees, the ocean, sun and sand.
I went up to it, buried my nose and my heart stopped.
after I took an inhale of the shirt my cerebrum pumped and pumped.
my body was shut off, all senses stopped, for a split second.
it jump started certain memories.
I smelt sand, I smelt sweat, I smelt love.
I saw flickers of holidays, a young me, an old you, people I had never seen before.
like I had lived a previous life, it was all black and white, maybe sepia.
had my life flashed before my eyes? one I had never seen before.
one I have been before? my feet were buried in the sand, I saw a sand castle.
I saw your smile.
it felt like I was in this place for a day or two, yet reality told me it was point 5 of a second.
I was naked when I picked up your Hawaiian shirt, I felt it caress my skin.
I put it on, it was huge, I resembled Tom Hanks from that film we loved, "Big".
the whole room was a glow, the image on the shirt was mirrored on the walls.
I sat and I smiled for a bit, I rubbed my shoulder against my chin.
it was a soft spot in "a place in the sun", warming my bare legs.
blues, oranges, yellows, greens and reds,
not the mean reds,
not the moody blues,
I took the shirt off, it was cold, it was silent.
I put it back over your bed and pulled the covers up close.
I thought of Monty and Liz.